True Love?
by MissJayne
Summary: "But the question is this, when you come right down to it... would you be willing to break her out of prison?  Because that, my boy, is true love."  Jenny muses on her feelings for Gibbs.


_A/N: For my friend madpsychogirl. I heard the quote a while ago and thought it perfect for Jibbs, but now I think it might be appropriate for you and a man I occasionally want to chase after with a baseball bat a la Gibbs, to knock some sense into him._

True Love?

_Martha__: But, the question is this, when you come right down to it... would you be willing to break her out of prison? Because that, my boy, is true love. __**Castle, 3x05**_

Jennifer Shepard had only been in love once in her life. She had loved before and been loved in return, but she had learnt the hard way that there was a massive gulf between loving someone and being in love.

Not to mention how badly a heart could break when it ended.

The love of her life was a man she was not supposed to have loved, a forbidden flirtation with her boss that had turned into a love affair spanning three continents, countless investigations and his ex-wife. She had followed him across the world, the two of them forced to hide their relationship from all others for fear they would be split up, only able to let their guard down when alone.

Which was often, given the nature of their work. From a stuffy attic in Marseilles to a spacious apartment in Paris, and all the rooms inbetween, they had worshipped each other. She would have done anything for him, taken any pain for him. She had trailed behind him like a lovesick puppy, feasting on every word he chose to say to her, dying for his touch against her bare skin, willing to do anything to keep the sun from rising and from them having to return to the shadows until the sun set.

She had loved him more than she had ever loved herself. Those carefree days in Europe had been the best of her life, days that lived on in her dreams on the odd night she was not caught in the throes of a nightmare. Sometimes she felt she was living in the nightmare, unable to reach out and touch him for support, for care, for the simple pleasure of touching him.

What would she do for him, even though they were no longer a couple? Even though her love for him was supposed to have ended long ago, when she disappeared leaving him only a jacket and a Dear John letter. She was supposed to have broken his heart, and some days she believed she had truly done so, while others she thought she saw a glimmer of love hidden in his eyes and she wanted nothing more than to demand he tell her the truth and damn everything else.

She already lied for him on a regular basis, however much she tried to convince herself that she was only stretching the truth to keep him in a job and the higher-ups off both their backs. She turned a blind eye to his immoral and sometimes illegal behavior, knowing if she was still working beside him she would be doing exactly the same thing, and trusting him to get the job done, even if he had to cheat a little.

She gave information to Ziva that she knew he would use to further his illegalities, aiding and abetting in her own way.

And when everything went wrong, which it occasionally did, she covered up for him as much as she possibly could.

But what if one day she couldn't? What if one day he was finally brought down, whether by a mistake or by someone out for his blood? What if one day everything finally caught up with him and he lost his job, his pension and his liberty?

He had come perilously close in France over a decade ago. Arrested by the gendarmes and throw into the cells at the local police station, while she had done everything she could to remain on the outside in order to rescue him. Not that he'd needed much rescuing, mind, as she had promptly discovered as she was about to break into the cells to release him. He had appeared with Ducky in tow just as she had been about to make her move. She had never asked how exactly he had managed to get out, instead choosing to make sure he stayed out by getting them away from France and commandeering a boat until she could get the charges dropped.

Ducky still referred to it as one of her finest hours, but she had not done it for him or the agency. She had done and been prepared to do whatever it took to keep her lover safe and free, whatever it cost her at the time or in the future.

Would she do it again now, if he was arrested in America? Would she risk her job and her career, the very things she had left him for? Would she risk her own freedom, and would she be prepared to very possibly spend the rest of her life on the run?

What worried her was that she already knew the answer. In a heartbeat. She was under no illusions that such an act could bring them back together again in more ways than one, but could very well break her heart one final time. But if he was arrested, she would break him out and let him decide whether he wanted to go with her or strike out on his own.

She was still in love with him; there was no doubt about it in her mind and her heart. She would not risk her own freedom for anyone else, she would not immediately forget about everything she had worked towards her entire life. These were not the thoughts of an ex-partner and her remaining loyalty to him, nor of a tentative friendship that they struggled to maintain.

This was true love, if she was ever able to describe it.


End file.
